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Frontispiece 






The Long Ago Y ears 
Stories 


BY 

ALICE ROSS COLVER 


Illustrated 



PHILADELPHIA 

HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY 



Copyright, 1919 
By Howard E. Altemus. 



©CI.A5L2872 


MAR 31 1919 


The Long Ago Years 
Stories 


WHY MR. ROBIN’S BREAST 
IS RED 

TN the long-ago years, when all 
the animals lived in the Sun- 
shine and Shadow Forest, and there 
were no people on earth, the Rob- 
in’s breast was snow white. You 
must know that before I begin 
my story. 

One day when summer was be- 
hind them and winter was before 
them and fall was right there, then 
Mr. Robin flew to his doctor. 

“ Doctor Owl,” he said to the 
wise old doctor, “ Doctor Owl, 
I’m a sick, sick robin.” 


5 


“ What’s the matter with you ?” 
Doctor Owl asked crossly. He 
didn’t like to be waked up in the 
daytime to take care of sick birds. 
“Eaten too many worms?” 

“Not at all, not at all,” Mr. Rob- 
in said indignantly. “ It’s my 
throat.” 

“Your throat, eh?” “What’s 
the matter with your throat?” 

“It’s sore. I can’t swallow.” 
Mr. Robin whispered this and the 
tears came into his eyes, he felt so 
sorry for himself. 

“Hum!” Doctor Owl put 
on his spectacles. “Open your 
mouth.” 

Mr. Robin opened it. 

“Say — a-h, a-h.” 

Mr. Robin said it. 

“Yes, quite so.” Doctor Owl 
nodded solemnly. “Quite so. Quite 
sore. Have you any red flannel 
about you ?” 

Mr. Robin shook his head. 

6 


“Any at home?” Doctor Owl 
asked. 

“Only a scribby scrap, and it’s 
in the wall of the children’s room. 
I couldn’t think of taking it. It 
keeps them so warm.” 

Doctor Owl frowned. Then his 
face cleared. He leaned forward 
and plucked a bright leaf that the 
frost had painted. He clapped it 
upon Mr. Robin’s chest and throat 
and tied it on with a long piece of 
grass and then he said : 

“ Leave that on all night. It’s 
warm and soothing and will draw 
the soreness out with the heat of 
it. One dollar, please.” 

So Mr. Robin paid his dollar and 
flew home to his wife, and on his 
throat and breast was a bright red 
leaf tied on with green grass. 

“I’m so afraid that red will come 
off on your clean white breast,” 
worried Mrs. Robin. “Is it wet?” 

“It is now,” Mr. Robin said. 


7 


"It’s hot, and I’ve perspired on it.” 

"Dear, dear !” Mrs. Robin sigh- 
ed. "I’m sure it will come off.” 

And it did. In the morning Mr. 
Robin asked Mrs. Robin to untie 
the green piece of grass and take 
off the red leaf, and there was Mr. 
Robin’s snow-white breast all red. 
All the scrubbing and rubbing 
wouldn’t take it out. 

"Nevermind, my throat’s well,” 
Mr. Robin said. 

But Mrs. Robin was angry. 

" I’m going to Doctor Owl about 
this,” she said. He ought to have 
known better.” And she did, but 
what do you think he said ? 

"If I’d known it would leave 
Mr. Robin’s breast that beautiful 
color, I’d have charged two dol- 
lars.” 


8 


HOW MISS KITTY CAT 
LEARNED TO PURR 

T SUPPOSE you think when you 
^ hear a Kitty Cat purr that she’s 
happy? Well, she isn’t. She’s very 
much ashamed of herself, and the 
purr bothers her so much that she 
has to sleep half-awake. You must 
know that before I begin my story. 

Miss Kitty Cat wandered 
through the Sunshine and Shadow 
Forest, waving her tail and lifting 
her feet high. She was very happy. 
She had done a dreadful thing, but 
nobody knew about it, so it was all 
right. Do you know what she had 
done ? 

She had discovered that a mouse 
was a delicious thing to eat. She 
had caught one, and teased it, and 
hurt it, and killed it, and eaten it, 
off in a lonelv corner. And then 


9 


she licked her mouth and went 
walking through the Forest as 
though she were proud of herself, 
and all the time she knew it was 
against the law of the Forest for any 
animal to hurt wilfully any other 
animal ! All of a sudden the little 
Fairy That Knew Everything stood 
on a toadstool before Miss Kitty 
Cat. (For fairies lived in the Sun- 
shine and Shadow F orest too. ) And 
this fairy shook her finger at Miss 
Kitty Cat and Miss Kitty Cat 
hung her head. 

“I know what you’ve done,” the 
Fairy That Knew Everything 
said. “ You’re a bad, naughty cat 
and I shall wish a bad wish for you 
in punishment.” 

Miss Kitty Cat’s head went 
lower yet, but there was no use of 
saying anything. If the fairy knew, 
she knew. And if she was going 
to wish a bad wish, who could stop 
her ? So Miss Kitty Cat waited. 

10 



11 








“ May the bones of that dead 
mouse you've eaten purr in your 
stomach," the fairy said sternly, 
“And purr, and purr every time 
you want to go to sleep." 

Miss Kitty Cat raised her head. 
The fairy had disappeared. Well, 
the wish wasn't so bad after all, 
Miss Kitty Cat thought. And she 
licked her mouth again and walked 
on. But she would never have 
thought that if she had known 
what “purr" meant. 

She walked on and on, smiling 
to herself and licking her lips, and 
thinking how good little Creep 
Mousie had tasted, and at last she 
grew very tired. She found a nice 
sunny corner by a rock and curled 
up there and decided to take a nap. 

But what do you think? The min- 
ute she got fixed all comfy some- 
thing inside her began to buzz and 
burr and hum and purr. It buzzed 
and burred and hummed and purr- 


12 


ed, and Miss Kitty Cat couldn't 
stop it though she changed her 
position six times. It kept on buz- 
zing and purring and she couldn't 
go to sleep. At last she rose and 
walked on and wondered if she had 
indigestion. Then she tried a new 
spot and laid down again. But 
again that something inside her 
buzzed and purred and purred and 
purred. Miss Kitty Cat was too 
tired to go any further, so she lay 
very still and held her breath. But 
she couldn't hold it long, and as 
soon as she stopped holding it the 
purring began again. 

Suddenly she twitched one ear. 
She remembered ! It was the bad 
wish the Fairy That Knew Every- 
thing had made, and that miserable 
purr was the rattle of the mouse's 
bones ! 

She sighed and shut her eyes 
again. She would have been so 
happy except for the purr that 


13 


wouldn't let her go to sleep ! 
Purr ! Purr ! There it was. And 
that's why Kitty Cats purr when 
they go to sleep, and that's why 
they wake up so quickly at a touch 
or a sound, because they can't 
really go sound asleep with a 
mouse's bones purring around in- 
side them and making such a 
racket. 


14 


WHY THE BEAVER BOY IS 
ALWAYS BUSY. 

OU’VE all of you heard people 
* say — “He’s as busy as a bea- 
ver/’ haven’t you? And of course 
you know that that means he’s 
pretty busy, — as busy — maybe 
busier — than a bee. 

Well, once upon a time, when 
all the animals lived together in the 
Sunshine and Shadow Forest, the 
beaver wasn’t a busy animal at all. 
He was, in fact, one of the laziest. 
Why, do you know what he’d do? 
He was too lazy to build his own 
house, so he’d board around from 
one place to another. Sometimes 
he’d live with the snakes and owls 
and sometimes he’d live down 
near the water with the birds. 
He could swim in the water as 
well as a fish, and so, because he 


15 


liked both land and water, he had 
many places to live in, and 
many friends to go to, which was 
lucky for him. Well, by and by, 
the animals grew tired of having 
him live with them, and eat their 
food all up, and just pay with a 
“Thank you.” He’d often come 
when they had a full house, and it 
would sometimes make the child- 
ren sleep in the attic or out in the 
cold. So they all got together, — 
the snakes and owls and chip- 
munks, and water-birds, and all the 
rest of them, — and decided to call 
on the Fairy That Knew Every- 
thing. 

“Please, Miss Fix It Fairy,” 
they said. “ Do something to the 
Beaver Boy. He’s too lazy for 
any living use. And he oughtn’t 
to be allowed to stay so.” 

“You’re right,” agreed Miss Fix 
It Fairy. “Now go home, all of 
you, and let me think.” 


16 



—The 


Long Ago Years 


Stories 


17 





So they scampered, and swam, 
and flew home, and three days later 
Miss Fix It Fairy asked them all 
to her toadstool cottage, and the 
Beaver Boy. 

“ Beaver Boy” she said as sternly 
as she could. “ Youhave been given 
teeth, and a tail, and four feet like 
most other animals. I think it is 
time that, like other animals, you 
learned to feed and house yourself. 
Hereafter, it is my strictest com- 
mand that none of you,” she said, 
turning to the friends of the Beaver 
Boy, “give bed or board to Beaver 
Boy. Now scoot home, every- 
body. And Beaver Boy, go make 
your own house.” 

Beaver Boy feebly wagged his 
tail and slunk off in the woods. Of 
course, he had to do as he was told 
by the fairy, but he didn't just 
know how to begin. 

“ I suppose,” he thought to him- 
self, “a house built of sticks would 


18 


be good. Yes,” he decided. “It 
would be good — very good.” 

So he looked around for sticks. 
But those he saw on the ground 
were all rotten, and he sat down 
again to think. 

“ I guess,” he decided at last, 
“ Fll have to cut down a tree.” 

So he set to work on a nice 
straight poplar that grew close to 
the water’s edge, and he began 
chewing on it. To his surprise he 
discovered two things : one was 
that he had very sharp teeth, and 
it wouldn’t take him many days to 
cut through the tree, and the other 
was that the bark of the tree was 
delicious eating. 

“ Ha ! Ha ! ” he thought to him- 
self. “ I think I’ll just peel all the 
bark off this tree and store it in my 
house for winter food.” 

So you see, Beaver Boy’s wits 
were being sharpened as well as 
his teeth. It took him two days 


19 


and a-half, and most of the nights 
to chew the tree through so that 
it fell with a great splash into the 
water. When his friends heard 
the splash, they came running and 
hopping and flying to see how he 
was getting along and to offer help. 
But Beaver Boy was by now quite 
merry in his work, and very, very 
proud of himself, so he thanked 
them but refused to be helped in 
any way. 

“No, thank you. I’m most 
through,” he replied, politely. 

So he worked, and worked, and 
finally he had peeled all the bark 
off the tree with his sharp, little 
teeth. Then he bit the branches 
off, and cut the wee ones the right 
length for his house ; then he float- 
ed them down, one by one, on the 
water, and steered them with his 
pointed nose, to the spot on the 
shore he had chosen for his home. 
Here he began building his house. 


20 


He scooped up mud from the bank 
and patted it between the sticks that 
he laid criss-cross, and corner-wise, 
and every which way, so that any- 
body coming along would think 
it was just an old heap o’ sticks 
and not a busy Beaver’s house at 
all. Finally, when he had patted 
the mud down hard with his tail, 
and had brought all the sticks he 
wanted, he had a beautiful, two- 
room house. One room was on 
the shore and the other was under 
the water, and the front door was 
under water. Did you ever hear 
of such a thing? But it was! To 
get into his house Beaver Boy 
dove under the water, swam with 
his eyes open to his front door and 
entered the first little room. This 
was his storeroom. Here he grab- 
bed a piece of bark, then climbed 
up into the room above and munch- 
ed his dinner. And in the winter 
time, he kept a hole cut in the ice 

21 


so he could dive under it and find 
his front door just the same. Pretty 
cute, wasn’t he? Well, let me tell 
you that by the time Beaver Boy 
had finished his building, his teeth 
were as sharp as saws ; and his tail 
had broadened out flat and hard 
like a shovel, from pat-patting the 
mud all the time; and his hind 
feet were webbed so he could swim 
better. And what’s more, — he had 
learned to like to work ! And he 
liked it so well he kept busy all 
the time, until he came to be 
known as one of tbe busiest little 
animals in the whole Sunshine and 
Shadow Forest, instead of the 
laziest. 


22 


HOW MR. ROOSTER 
CHANCED TO CROW. 

TN the long ago days before 
any people lived at all, and 
when all the animals were the 
friendliest kind of neighbors in 
the Sunshine and Shadow Forest, 
the Rooster couldn’t crow. You 
must know that before I begin my 
story. He only knew how to 
cackle a miserable little noise. 

“ My wife can lay eggs,” mused 
Mr. Rooster one day to himself. 
“ So she’s famous. And the eggs 
turn into darling little gold or 
black fluffy balls, and they’re 
so pretty that they’re famous. 
Miss Kitty Cat can purr, so 
she’s famous” (You see Miss 
Kitty Cat hadn’t told a soul what 
a disgraceful sound the purr was, 


23 


and that it was Miss Mouse’s bones 
rattling inside her. She pretended 
she was proud of the purr, and 
tried to make other animals jeal- 
ous.) “And Mr. Owl is wise 
enough to be a doctor, so he’s 
famous. But I’m not famous for 
anything. Dear, oh dear !” 

This made him so sad lie 
couldn’t eat, and he couldn’t talk, 
and he didn’t want to walk, and 
his wife grew really worried. 
Finally he got so that he couldn’t 
sleep at night, and then he was in 
a bad fix, because he became so 
thin his feathers wouldn’t stick in 
and he was getting bald all over. 
He thought and thought, and 
wondered and wondered, and 
pondered and pondered how he 
could become famous. And all 
the time he’d sleep less and less at 
night, and began to wake up when 
it was still dark. 

One morning he woke up when 


24 



25 



it was still very dark. He sat all 
hunched up trying to hold his 
feathers in, and cover the bald 
spots on his back that were cold, 
and feeling altogether very sad in- 
deed. The dark turned to gray 
while he sat there thinking, and 
the gray turned to pale white, and 
all of a sudden Mr. Rooster looked 
a long way off through the trees, 
and saw something red spread and 
spread. Mr. Rooster stared and 
held his breath, half afraid. Was 
it fire? No, it wasn't fire. He 
watched some more. Still the red 
spread and spread, and it looked 
beautiful through the trees. He 
watched the black forest turn 
green; watched the silver stars 
fade away; watched the pale sky 
grow blue ; and it was so beautiful 
it filled his heart to overflowing 
with joy. All of a sudden he 
thought the rest of his friends and 
neighbors must see it, so he flop- 


26 


ped up on top of an old stump, 
stretched his wings, stuck out his 
neck, opened his mouth and called 
as loud as he could. And this is 
what he said: — 

“ Cock-a-doodle-doo-oo-oo ! ” 
Immediately everybody came 
running, and hopping, and creep- 
ing, and flying through the forest 
to Mr. Roosters house to find out 
what the matter was. His wife 
woke up at the first “cock” and 
scolded him good. She said : 

“John! What an unearthly 
noise! You’ll wake the children.” 

But Mr. Rooster still balanced 
himself on top of the stump, feel- 
ing very proud indeed for making 
such a big noise. And when every- 
body had gathered around him and 
sat down to hear him explain him- 
self, he stretched his wings, and 
stuck out his neck, and opened his 
mouth and said it again : 

“ Cock-a-doodle-do-oo-oo !” 


27 


“What does that mean?” asked 
King Lion crossly, for he was very 
sleepy. 

“It means — Fve discovered the 
dawn. Look!” And Mr. Rooster 
pointed with his right wing to the 
red through the trees. 

And from that day to this he has 
crowed every morning at daybreak, 
because he’s so happy that he’s 
famous for making a noise that 
nobody else can make and for dis- 
covering the dawn. 


28 


WHAT MR. ELEPHANT 
PACKED IN HIS TRUNK. 

T T was a scorching hot day in the 
* middle of summer, and all the 
beasts and birds in the Sunshine 
and Shadow Forest lay as still as 
possible in the coolest spots they 
could find. It had been hot like 
that for a week, and the grass that 
was usually tender and juicy and 
green, withered and turned brown 
wherever the sun sifted through 
the trees and touched it. Gradually 
the beasts and birds came nearer 
and nearer to the Still Pool, and 
clustered about it, weary and wide 
eyed, for they were frightened by 
the heat. Some even crept into the 
cool water of the Still Pool, and 
lay there. At last, the sun stood 
right over the middle of the Sun- 


29 


shine and Shadow Forest, and 
shone down in the Still Pool until 
even that turned warm. Then 
King Lion spoke: 

“ Friends/' he said, and his voice 
was shaky. “This is most un- 
commonly wrong, — this heat. And 
it lasts most uncommonly long. 
I am afraid/’ 

As he spoke he noticed a little 
quiver run over a patch of brown 
grass. Then another little quiver 
went over it. All the beasts and 
birds arose in fright. Two more 
little quivers ran over the patch, and 
then other patches showed the 
same little quivers, and in a minute 
all the animals knew that the 
scorched grass had caught fire from 
the heat of the sun. They did not 
know what to do. Everywhere 
they looked, tiny, creepy flames 
spread over the withered grass, and 
still the sun beat down. 

“If only we could get the Still 


30 




I 


Pool spread over the grass,” quav- 
ered King Lion. 

But how to do it they did not 
know, until all of a sudden Grandpa 
Elephant lifted his trunk high in 
the air, and trumpeted to all of his 
aunts, and uncles, and sisters, and 
brothers, and cousins, and sons, and 
daughters and friends, When they 
had all gathered around him he 
said : 

“Come on and do as I do.” 

Then he waded into the’ Still 
Pool, and sucked a stream of water 
up into his trunk, and waded out 
again and walked to a burning patch 
of grass, and squirted the water on 
it. Sizz! The quivery flame dis- 
appeared. Immediately all the rest 
of the elephants stamped into the 
Still Pool until it was a still pool 
no longer, but a wavy, muddy lake, 
— and filled their trunks and 
thumped out again and marched 
with their great, heavy, wet feet 


32 


to the burning patches where they 
sprinkled the water they had in 
their trunks. And in a little while 
the fires were put out, and the 
forest was cooled, and the animals 
were saved — all because Mr. Ele- 
phant knew just what to pack in 
his trunk in case of fire. 


3 — The Long Ago Years Stories 


33 


HOW MR. RATTLESNAKE 
LEARNED TO RATTLE. 

O F course, you realize that when 
there were no people on the 
earth, and the animals all lived to- 
gether in friendliest fashion, the 
rattlesnake never bit anything, be- 
cause he didn’t need to. And of 
course, you know that a rattlesnake 
rattles just before he bites, and if 
he never bit, how could he know 
he could rattle? Well, he couldn’t 
know, of course. And, by the way, 
his name wasn’t Mr. Rattlesnake 
at all then, — it was just Mr. Sand- 
snake. You must know all those 
things before I begin my story. 

Mr. Sandsnake lives in a hole in 
the sandy ground, and he likes 
company, so whom do you think 
he invites to live with him ? Y ou’d 


34 



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35 




never guess. A little prairie dog 
and a burrowing owl. I suppose 
you thought all owls lived in trees ? 
Well, they don’t. This particular 
owl has very strong legs and stout 
claws, and he always helps dig the 
hole that he and the prairie dog and 
Mr. Sandsnake are to live in. Do 
you know what a prairie dog is? 
He looks like a big, rough rat, and 
he’s quick as a flash to dive into his 
hole if he sees anybody coming he 
doesn’t like, or is afraid of. The 
owl isn’t nearly so quick, because 
he can’t see so well. 

One day, Mr. Sandsnake was ly- 
ing out in the warm sun, just coil- 
ing and uncoiling himself for exer- 
cise. Mr. Owl was half asleep on 
the sandy spot near his hole, and 
the prairie dog was frisking around. 

“ Here comes Mr. Clumsy 
Buffalo ! Look out for him or he’ll 
step on you ! ” the prairie dog cried, 
and in a wink he had dived into his 


36 


hole. Mr. Sandsnake heard him 
and looked up, but Mr. Owl was 
nicely sound asleep, and never 
budged, and all the time Mr. 
Clumsy Buffalo’s feet were pound- 
ing nearer and nearer Mr. Sand- 
snake’s good friend the Owl. 
Mr. Sandsnake didn’t know what 
to do. He couldn’t call out to Mr. 
Owl. Snakes can’t talk like other 
animals — cats and . dogs, for in- 
stance. He couldn’t make any 
noise at all, and how to warn Mr. 
Sleepy Owl he didn’t know. Mr. 
Clumsy Buffalo would step on 
him in one more minute ! He 
wouldn’t mean to, but he couldn’t 
see very well because his little eyes 
were such a long way from the 
ground, and Mr. Sleepy Owl was 
so tiny and so still down there on 
the sand. Mr. Sandsnake raised 
himself way up. He had decided 
he must bite Mr. Clumsy Buffalo 
and turn him aside for a second 


37 


until Mr. Owl woke up. In his 
fear and excitement he quivered all 
over, and shook all the way down 
to his tail, and what do you think? 
His tail rattled and rattled, and the 
noise of it woke Mr. Owl, and he 
saw Mr. Clumsy Buffalo’s foot 
just over his head, and in a second 
he wiggled and flew and scram- 
bled out of the way. Mr. Sand- 
snake had already bitten Mr. 
Clumsy Buffalo, but his skin was 
so tough he never felt it at all. He 
just shook his big head and went 
lumbering on his way. 

But from that day to this, Mr. 
Sandsnake has always rattleda warn- 
ing just before he bites, and from 
that day to this his name has been 
Mr. Rattlesnake. 


38 


HOW MR. PEACOCK 
COLORED HIS TAIL 

I N the long-ago years Mr. Pea- 
cock's tail was just as big as 
it is now, but every single feather 
on it was black as black can be. 
You must know that before I 
begin my story. 

One day Mr. Peacock was strut- 
ting proudly through the Sunshine 
and Shadow Forest, when Mr. 
Cock-a-doodle Rooster saw him. 
Now Mr. Rooster was jealous of 
the size of Mr. Peacock's tail. 
He wanted one just like it, but he 
knew his would never be any big- 
ger, so he said something to Mrs. 
Chick-a-biddy out loud, on pur- 
pose for Mr. Peacock to hear. 
This is what he said, and he waved 
his short tail feathers as proudly as 


39 


he could while he said it. (His 
tail feathers were colored red and 
orange and other lovely colors, 
you know, but they were short.) 

“Mr. Peacock certainly has a 
wonderful spread of tail feathers, 
but isn’t it too bad they’re all 
black? I’d rather have short col- 
ored ones than long black ones, 
myself.” 

Mr. Peacock had never thought 
of that before. He loved his tail 
feathers, and the black was so shiny 
he loved that too, but if Mr. Roos- 
ter felt that way about them other 
animals might too. And what could 
he do to color them just as gaily 
as Mr. Rooster’s? He thought 
and thought, and finally he went to 
the Fairy That Knew Everything, 
and told his troubles to her. She 
flew up to his head and whispered 
to him what he must do. He 
looked doubtful, but he thanked 
the fairy and said he’d try it. 

40 



41 



Then he began to walk. He 
walked past Dr. Owl's office, past 
Mr. Elephant's retreat, past Mr. 
Rattlesnake's hole, past Miss 
Nanny Goat's home; past all his 
friends he walked. It took him 
days and days to do it, but finally 
he reached the outside edge of 
the Sunshine and Shadow Forest, 
where the sea met the shore in 
lovely ripples. Here he rested. 
For three days and three nights he 
rested, and at last a soft summer 
shower blew over the sea. It 
rained gently on Mr. Peacock, and 
though he didn't like it, he stayed 
out in the wet because that was 
what the fairy had told him to do. 
In the middle of the rain the sun 
came out, and Mr. Peacock looked 
up in the sky, and behold ! A 
big rainbow arched itself from the 
far edge of the sea over the water 
till its other end dropped in little 
ripples at Mr. Peacock's feet. 


42 


Then Mr. Peacock bent his 
head and looked at the ground, 
and, sure enough, there was the 
pot of gold at the foot of the rain- 
bow. He picked it up and spilled 
the gold on the sand just where 
all the lovely rainbow colors met 
together. Immediately from the 
sand rose tiny, tiny specks, in a 
cloud like smoke. Mr. Peacock 
hastily turned himself around and 
held his wet tail feathers over 
the rainbow-colored cloud of 
smoke, and when it disappeared his 
tail feathers had the loveliest col- 
ors you ever saw. The specks had 
stuck, you see. Of course, some 
were still black, but he didn’t mind 
that at all. Proudly he went home 
and wouldn’t tell a soul how he 
changed his feathers from black. 
And you mustn’t tell, either. 


43 


WHY MR. CROW CAN 
ONLY CAW. 


TN the long-ago years, you must 
* know, Mr. Black-as-night Crow 
could sing as well as — well, as well 
as the thrush, or the canary or any 
other of the lovely song birds. 
That’s news to you, isn’t it ? And 
of course you know that now all 
he can say is “Caw! Caw!” And 
his voice is ugly and raw. But the 
trouble was that instead of sing- 
ing for the love of singing, Mr. 
Black-as-night Crow sang to be 
praised. He’d perch up on a tree 
and sing and sing until you’d think 
his throat would burst. It really 
was beautiful, but the minute he 
was through he’d fly to all the 
birds, and animals, and bugs, and 
snakes, and say : 

“ Did you hear my song ? How 


44 


e.--* 



45 






did you like it ? That’s a new one. 
Did you like it better than the 
other one? Was it prettier than 
the one I sang yesterday? Was it 
really prettier?” 

And he’d wait around until they 
congratulated him enough to please 
him. Then he’d go back to his 
perch and sing again, and then fly 
to all his friends again and ask them 
the same questions again, and wait 
for their praise again, — until they 
got tired of him. (You know, 
people like that do make you most 
awfully tired.) Finally, Miss 
Meadowlark and Lovely Oriole 
and Little Miss Nightingale flew to 
the Fairy That Knew Everything, 
and they said : 

“ Mr. Black-as-night Crow sings 
so much we don’t get a chance. 
We don’t like to interrupt, but he 
keeps it up and up. Besides he’s 
so conceited, he gives us a pain. 
Won’t you fix him, please ?” 


46 


Of course, the Fairy That Knew 
Everything knew that, but she’d 
only been waiting for complaints 
before punishing Mr. Black-as- 
night Crow. She waited until he 
had finished a song. Then she flew 
up to where he sat, and sat down 
opposite him and looked him 
squarely in the eye. 

“ Mr. Black-as-night Crow,” she 
said, and her voice was stern for 
a fairy, “your songs are lovely, but 
we’re tired of them. Tired of them ! 
Do you understand? And we don’t 
want ever to hear them again be- 
cause you’re so silly and conceit- 
ed.” Then she waved her hands at 
him and said — 

“Crow! Crow! Black-as-night 
Crow ! 

“ Lose your voice. It must go ! 

“ Caw and caw, — Poor old 
Crow. 

“Do we like it? No! No! No!” 


47 


Mr. Black-as-night Crow burst 
out laughing. 

“Take my voice away? You 
can’t! Nobody can. It’s inside 
of me tight. Listen !” 

And he began to sing, but the 
only sound he could make was 
“Caw! Caw!” And it sounds like 
a rusty wagon wheel. Did you 
ever notice it ? 


48 


HOW LIGHTFOOT REIN- 
DEER GREW HER HORNS. 

TT was Carnival Day in the Sun- 
* shine and Shadow Forest, and 
all the animals had gathered to- 
gether for fun and frolic and re- 
freshment. The Monkey -men 
vied with each other to see who 
could do the fanciest handswings 
and somersaults. The Bow-wow 
dogs ran a race to see who could 
get a bone the quickest. The 
Cock-a-doodle-Roosters crowed 
to see who could crow the loud- 
est. The Elephants swung stones 
in their trunks to see which could 
throw the heaviest stone the far- 
thest, — and all together everybody 
was hilarious and happy. 

Finally, Mr. Trot-along Pony 
and Mr. Sneak-by Fox and Mr. 

4 — The Long Ago Years Stories 

49 


Sharpteeth Wolf and Miss Kitty 
Cat and Miss Lightfoot Reindeer 
were to have a race. Whoever 
could run up to a certain tree, turn 
around and get back first to the 
Fairy That Knew Everything, 
would get the first taste of the 
refreshments. 

One, two, three ! Off they went ! 
Mr. Trot-along Pony ran; Mr. 
Sneak-by Fox seemed to fly ; Mr. 
Sharptooth Wolf bounded along 
easily and swiftly; Miss Kitty Cat 
just zipped, with her tail high in the 
air like a brush. But Miss Light- 
foot Reindeer was a little ahead of 
them all. She was very proud of 
herself, for she was the youngest 
of them all. But alas ! In her joy 
she turned to look behind her to 
see if she was gaining ground. And 
bang ! She bumped into a tree. It 
hurt her head so that she had to 
drop out of the race. She felt quite 
dizzy, and she was terribly disap- 

50 



51 



pointed, and her head ached badly, 
so she stole away from the uproar- 
ious crowd of animals who were 
cheering little Miss Kitty Cat for 
winning, and went away to the Still 
Pool in the middle of the Forest. 

It was quiet there and restful. 
But oh, how her head hurt! She 
decided that if she dipped her head 
in the cool water it would help. 
And it did. Then she rubbed her 
head in some soft mud, and that 
felt good — like butter on a burn, 
you know — and by-and-by she fell 
asleep. 

But the next day, and the next, 
and the next week, and the next, 
and the next month, and the next, 
— her head felt queerer and queerer. 
It didn’t hurt exactly, but it swell- 
ed up where she had bumped it, 
and then it began to prickle, and 
soon something popped through 
her skin and began to grow. And 
do you know what it was ? 


52 


It was a tiny seed that had been 
in the mud she rubbed her head in. 
The seed grew and grew until, on 
Light-foot Reindeers forehead 
were lovely little trees that we call 
horns. 

Now what do you think of that? 


53 


HOW MRS. PORCUPINE 
GOT HER QUILLS. 

D ID you know that porcupines 
liked honey ? They don’t 
any more, but they used to. And 
at the time they liked to eat honey 
they had the queerest little bare 
backs, with no quills on at all. Well, 
the reason that they don’t likehoney 
nowadays is the same reason why 
they have quills. And that’s my 
story. 

In the long-ago days Mrs. Fat 
Old Porcupine used to sneak very 
quietly along till she came to the 
place where the bees kept their 
honey. Y ou know the bees worked 
mighty hard to get that honey, and 
when they’d find their lovely little 
honey cakes all scooped out and 
eaten, they were mad. A mad bee 


54 




> > 

* > 5 









is a dangerous thing, you know. 
Mrs. Far Old Porcupine kept on 
helping herself to their honey 
without so much as saying, “If 
you please,” 'till, by-and-by one 
day a bee, who was left on guard, 
discovered who it was that was 
taking it. In a fury he buzzed 
around, and told all the other bees 
who were busy getting the sweet- 
ness from the flowers to make 
more honey. They all buzzed up 
in the air in a cloud, all just furious 
at Mrs. Fat Old Porcupine, and 
they flew all together to the Fairy 
That Knew Everything and told 
their tale to her and then they said: 

“May we sting Mrs. Fat Old 
Porcupine? It will teach her a 
lesson she won’t forget, and she 
needs to be taught that lesson.” 

The fairy thought a minute. 
She didn’t like anybody in the 
Forest to have trouble with any- 
body else, because they were all 

56 


supposed to live together in friend- 
liest fashion, but there did seem to 
be little scraps now and then, and 
these she always settled in the fair- 
est way possible. At last she an- 
swered : 

“Yes, you may sting Mrs. Fat 
Old Porcupine, and I will cast a 
spell over her as you do it, and she 
will never touch your honey 
again.” 

So, in a cloud they buzzed up in 
the air, and flew to Mrs. Fat Old 
Porcupine’s house. When they got 
there, the fairy called to Mrs. Fat 
Old Porcupine to come out, and 
the minute she did so the bees flew 
down and stung her good and hard 
all over her bare back. Of course 
she squealed, but she was rather a 
tough old thing, and it didn’t hurt 
for long. It was the spell the fairy 
cast on her that distressed her 
most. For the fairy had waved 
her hands and said: 


57 


“ Stings ! Grow ! Grow and 
stretch ! Stretch and stiffen ! Stif- 
fen and bristle ! Bristle and bris- 
tle, and never come out !” 

And sure enough, — all over Mrs. 
Fat Old Porcupine's back the stings 
came sprouting out, and they grew, 
and grew, and stretched and stiff- 
ened, and stiffened and bristled, 
until they are the ugly, old quills 
that you know today. And Mrs. 
Fat Old Porcupine is so ashamed 
she hides herself away as milch as 
possible, and never goes near the 
bees or their honey, and if some- 
body does happen to see her, she 
raises her quills up in the air ’till 
she’s all puffed up, like a big pin- 
cushion. But none of the quills 
will come loose unless you touch 
them, — so little boys and girls, — 
don’t touch them, because they 
sting ! 


58 


WHY THE GRASSHOPPER 
HAD TO HOP. 


T N the long ago years, the Grass- 
hopper wasn’t a grasshopper at 
all. That is, that wasn’t his name. 
His name used to be Greenwings, 
for he had soft, wide wings, like a 
butterfly, and no legs to speak of. 
You must know that before I be- 
gin my story. 

Greenwings was floating lazily 
in the air. He had gone up to 
the treetops of the Sunshine and 
Shadow Forest, and that was the 
highest he had ever been. So long 
as he looked up at the blue sky and 
fluffy, white clouds, he was all 
right, but the minute he looked 
down and saw how far from his 
home in the grass he was, he 
grew sick and was frightened. 

59 


"Oh, my!” What a long way 
I’ve come! I don’t think I can 
get home. It makes me dizzy to 
look down, and besides suppose 
my wings should break, or some- 
thing ?” 

Now Greenwings always talked 
like this. He was a silly soul, al- 
ways eager to fly up in the world, 
looking for adventure, but always 
afraid to meet it. Lots of times, 
when the wind offered to help him 
high above the treetops to the 
clouds, or when the eagle offered 
to fly with him over the ocean, 
why then he’d get scared and 
he’d say: 

“ No, thank you, I guess I won’t 
today. Gracious, I’ve come a 
long way. I didn’t know how 
tired I was. Will you help me 
home?” 

And the wind would have to 
stop blowing up a storm and waft 
Greenwings gently down to earth; 


60 



61 


or the eagle would have to stop 
his beautiful swooping and swerv- 
ing and flop down to the ground 
with Greenwings safely resting in 
the hollow of his back. And then 
silly Greenwings would thank them 
and, the minute their backs were 
turned, he’d tell his friends, the 
ants and beetles, what wonderful 
adventures he’d had — sitting on 
the edges of clouds, or flying over 
the ocean with the eagle for com- 
pany. And the ants and beetles 
believed him and envied him his 
beautiful green wings. But by 
and by the eagle and the wind 
wearied of bringing Greenwings 
safely home each day, and they 
complained to the Fairy That 
Knew Everything. She lived in a 
toadstool cottage, exactly in the 
middle of the Sunshine and Shadow 
Forest, and it was she who really 
managed all the affairs of the 
animals. 


62 


“ Bring Greenwings to me,” 
she said. 

So the wind wafted him and the 
eagle gave him a lift, and soon 
Greenwings was before the Fairy 
That Knew Everything. 

“ Greenwings/* said the fairy 
sternly, “ You’re a silly soul, 
and your ambitions aren’t as big 
as your wings. You’ve been a 
nuisance to the wind, often inter- 
fering with his regular work. And 
you’ve been a nuisance to the 
eagle, whose duty it is to soar 
aloft and keep guard over the Sun- 
shine and Shadow Forest. Each 
day you’ve made them bring you 
safely home Furthermore, your 
stories of your adventures haven’t 
matched your adventures. You 
must suffer for not telling your 
friends the truth. Disappear, wings! 
Stretch, legs!” 

As she spoke she touched Green- 
wings, and his lovely wide butter- 


63 


fly wings vanished, while his legs, 
that weren’t anything to speak of, 
grew and grew until they were as 
you know them. 

"Now get you home, Grass- 
hopper ! ” said the Fairy That 
knew Everything. 

And Greenwings has been Grass- 
hopper from that day to this. 


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